


Before You

by rinverse



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, I think you get it by now, I'm not saying there's a lot of plot but there's just enough to justify writing this, Jae-ha's got a thing or two to teach him, Kija POV, Kija's got a nice ass and a sexual identity crisis, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24152494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinverse/pseuds/rinverse
Summary: Kija thought he was straight — before the stranger with the outrageous offer came along. Jae-ha thought the boy was too vanilla to take him upon on his challenge — before he was proven wrong. Now, they’re both getting what they want. Hard and fast.——(aka that College AU where nothing is PG)
Relationships: Jae-Ha/Kija (Akatsuki no Yona)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 100





	Before You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome, dear Reader, to a very... explicit JaeKi fic, one which was very turbulent to write but I hope feels enjoyable to read! :)
> 
> (NSFW Warning: VERY explicit sexual content, no really, I'm not messing around)

Black motorbike with purple stripes, green hair tied back in a ponytail, dragon on his helmet. One word: trouble. Kija already knew that much before he’d even stopped long enough to think it over. Then again, when had trouble ever been something Kija’d found himself drawn to? Never, not until tonight.

Kija wasn’t even certain why he’d let himself get dragged along to this party. It was the typical scene — a few dozen people all crammed up in one of the older students’ rent-outs for the semester, with explicit request to bring their own booze, preferably some extra cans for those who never did. In other words, not Kija’s preferred scene. He didn’t care for the dirty flats or the cheap excuse for alcohol that made him want to spit what he’d just drank. But his best friend Yona had said that the best cure for a broken heart was a good party. And though Kija could argue that he was not feeling particularly heartbroken over his recent ex, he reckoned it’d be easier not to argue with Yona. Nothing good ever came of it; he knew he’d get dragged along anyway.

In retrospect, he’d not expected to enjoy himself. And he’d certainly not expected to find half of the party happening outside, on the block. As Yona had dragged him along, Hak in tow, to see what was happening, he’d heard booming cheers, seen a whole crowd had gathered.

“What’s going on?” Yona had asked only loud enough for her friends to hear.

The answer came as they wove through the crowd and spotted two bikers on either side of the parking lot that led to the open road, out of the local and onto the arterial. One of the bikers, the green-haired boy whom Kija had immediately pegged as trouble, slotted his key into the ignition, zipped up his jacket. He turned the key, pulled in the clutch, and then hit the ignition. Pulling up lightly with the toe of his left boot, he eased the bike into neutral and let go of the grips.

“A race?” Hak said, the tone of his voice insinuating a degree of excitement that Kija did not share.

“Give your knight a kiss before he rides off into battle!” one of the racer’s friends shouted.

Shaking his head, the green-haired biker stepped on the shift pedal and eased on the throttle. He pulled in his clutch to rip a roar out of his engine, then let it out slowly. The bike growled readily as he pulled out into the street, next to the other racer. People yelled incoherently. Their enthusiasm laced the air, together with the smell of burned rubber at the green-haired biker’s display. As soon as the boy got into position, he lowered the visor all the way down and fished around to secure the straps beneath his chin. Kija watched, incredulous, as one by one, girls leaned forward to kiss the dragon on the helmet’s brow.

Hak snorted. “The fuck is that for?”

“Luck,” the biker’s friend called out to them, then looked at Yona. “You want to give him a kiss too?”

“The hell she does.” Hak took a step forward.

The boy lifted his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay! How about you then, with the white hair?”

Kija stared, then blinked. “Me?” he asked dumbly.

“C’mon, thirteen’s a bad number!” The biker made no reaction as his friend spoke. Instead, he simply started to fasten the D-rings on his helmet. “Or we’ll blame you if he loses!”

What a silly thing to say. In fact, he wasn’t certain what was more idiotic — an illegal race or counting on luck to win it. Kija supposed it was neither, because as he marched towards the bike and leaned forward, he proved to be the silliest one out there.

“Since we’re all doing it,” he said and gave the helmet’s dragon a quick peck. He’d later blame it on the alcohol.

The biker looked him up and down, the action only visible because his helmet moved with the motion. As the biker’s friend marched to the sidewalk, just in front of the two racers, the crowd went quiet and very still. Kija couldn’t help himself but stand back, entranced, some part of him recoiling at the sheer stupidity of a street race and another beckoning him to watch on.

The boy at the front raised his hand, and everyone held in a breath. “Go!” he yelled after a beat of stillness, letting his arm drop. There was a roar as the bikes came to life. People lent their throats to the deafening noise, whoops and riotous cheers coming from both sides of the sidewalk and even the windows of the house. The engines and screaming rear tires drowned much of it out, but not all. Clouds of smoke began to billow up as the racers revved up against the asphalt, roaring down the street.

Kija watched on as the bikers sped up the road, leaving behind trails of kicked-up dirt. He stayed until he could no longer see them. Over on the other side of the road, he could hear the howl of the engines and the horns of other cars and trucks.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Hak beckoning him back inside the house. “Come on, let’s get another drink,” his friend said.

The boy frowned. “Aren’t we staying for the end of the race?”

“We’ll know when they start getting back, trust me.”

With some degree of reluctance, Kija joined the beer pong table, where Yona and Hak teamed up against a quiet blue-haired student that Kija had only seen in passing a few times and the buoyant Zeno who was hosting the party. Perhaps, he could admit that coming here hadn’t been a bad idea. Not that he’d ever tell Hak he’d been right, but he could at least thank Yona for dragging him along.

Before he’d even realised, Kija had missed both the roar of the bikes coming back and the cheers of the crowd. He’d been swept in a conversation with Yoon, one of the other students on his programme, and hadn’t heard the commotion happening outside. He supposed he shouldn’t have felt nearly as disappointed as he did once his brain finally caught onto why so many people had come back inside the house. Of the bikers, he didn’t see a trace, though he wasn’t sure what either of them even looked like. It had been too dark, the racers’ faces covered by their visors, and he only remembered the one with the dragon on his helmet, with the green hair and the long ponytail. 

As Kija excused himself and went ahead to refill his cup, he felt a quick tap on his shoulder. Expecting to see Hak, Kija was already turning around with a slight frown, though he’d been wrong.

The green-haired biker smiled down at him. “I didn’t see you at the finish line.”

“You’re one of the racers,” Kija answered dumbly, not sure what to say or why the man had approached him in the first place.

“Jae-ha.”

So Kija had heard the crowd calling him, though he’d quickly forgotten. Up close, Jae-ha was tall, much taller than Kija and taller still, compared to how he’d looked leaning over his bike’s tank. The smell of scorched asphalt and burned rubber clung to his leather jacket, and Kija found it oddly intriguing. 

“Kija,” the boy replied. “So, did you win?”

The smile on Jae-ha’s face, a self-satisfied smirk more than anything else, was telling enough. “Of course. I always win.”

The boy chuckled, shaking his head lightly. Well, at least the man knew how to pay himself a compliment without waiting that others do so for him. Under other circumstances, Kija would have found it obnoxious. He didn’t now, for whatever reason. Perhaps he’d been too impressed with the ease with which he’d seen Jae-ha grab his clutch and front brake lever, the command with which he’d stomped down on his shift, then toed it up. 

“I’ve never seen a street race before,” Kija said, offering a soft little smile as he moved to refill his cup, feeling Jae-ha follow by his side. “They’re quite dangerous, aren’t they? Route 65 isn’t an easy road.”

Jae-ha shrugged. “Curves were made to be ridden.”

Kija opened his mouth to respond automatically, but then his brain caught up with the sentence, attempted to process its meaning, and failed. He clamped his mouth shut promptly. How was one supposed to respond to that? The boy looked up to see Jae-ha had leaned closer now, his face angled down towards Kija’s and tilted a little to the side.

“You’re cute,” Jae-ha said, his gaze laid to rest on Kija’s lips.

Immediately, Kija felt taken aback, certain that he’d heard wrong. The music was loud, the bass pounding. “I’m sorry?”

“Wanna come to mine later?”

Kija felt small. Even though his shoulders were broad and wide, even though his strength could easily outmatch that of any of the other players on his sports team, he felt as though the biker towered him completely.

“ _Oh_ ,” the boy responded dumbly. “Sorry, I’m straight.”

Feeling himself somehow even smaller than before he’d had to answer, Kija looked down. Heat sparked up his neck and cheeks, he knew it, but could not hide the flush from the biker, who’d likely taken it to mean something that it did not. Because when he spoke again, it wasn’t in apology.

“Sure you are,” Jae-ha said. “Here, let me give you my number anyway.”

A bit dumbfounded, Kija handed him his phone in silence, watching as Jae-ha typed his number in and handed it back.

The biker smiled once more before he turned to join his friends by the bar. “Hit me up sometime.”

And just like that, Kija’s world had been turned sideways, rocked into turmoil. He was straight. His whole life, Kija had known he was straight, had never spent a second doubting it. But just a few words had made his mind implode. There was no implication in his thoughts that he may not be, but what confused him, scared him, was that despite his assurance, he found himself thinking back on that offer, on that boy who’d said something so bold so very casually. As if it hadn’t just split Kija’s world wide open. 

Days passed. Kija did not doubt himself, he was straight. A week passed. He didn’t deny that he was straight, though he wondered what had made Jae-ha approach him in the first place. Then, two weeks passed. He wondered why Jae-ha had wanted him and if Kija would have wanted Jae-ha in return. Finally, a month passed. It was pointless to deny it. He wanted Jae-ha.

Whenever Kija joined Hak and Yona at parties, Jae-ha was always there, always someone by his side who was batting eyelashes or rubbing up his arm. Kija couldn’t stop himself from watching him each time, as if he’d get his kick simply from seeing him. But it didn’t work like that; this need he’d come to feel wasn’t something that could be erased by lack of action. Every time that he saw Jae-ha, it was like he was stoking the flames of a fire he didn’t know how to put out, a fire that he was afraid to approach too closely, in fear of getting burned, but one that he also couldn’t help but be fascinated by. Sometimes, their eyes would meet and Kija would quickly look away. Other times, when he felt particularly daring, he’d keep them locked on, and Jae-ha would flash that devious smile of his, though he didn’t approach him after that first experience.

Jae-ha was waiting for Kija to make the next move, he realised. The ball was in Kija’s court and he’d be getting only what he asked for, nothing more, nothing less. In a way, it was reassuring. In another, it terrified him anyway. He should let it go. But after that first interaction, his brain would not let him forget. Kija would find himself wondering, _what if_ , and then catch himself as if in the middle of doing something illegal.

Eventually, Kija couldn’t deny himself those fantasies anymore. His fingers were shaking as he pulled up Jae-ha’s number and typed, simply:

_Hey._

He’d reached the first point of no-return, he supposed. Kija didn’t know at all what would happen if Jae-ha responded, didn’t know what he’d do if the other boy didn’t. In fact, he didn’t know a thing. He only prayed that he’d figure it out on time.

A couple of minutes later came the reply: _Had a change of heart?_

Kija frowned, not at all surprised by the forward answer and yet somehow disappointed that Jae-ha had denied him the comfort of small talk. In a way, the boy had been counting on it to help calm the crescendo in his mind and the storm inside his heart.

_Not sure, been thinking about it._

His heart was in his throat, beating loudly. What was he even doing? More importantly, what answer was he hoping for?

He stared at his phone in silence for a few minutes, a quarter of an hour. Then, finally: _Hit me up when you’ve made up your mind._

And there it was, the turning point. Kija had been hoping to ease in, to give himself a possible out. But not like that, not this forward. Jae-ha had given him his terms, had made it clear that he’d not have Kija waste his time unless he’d found it in himself to be certain of his decision. He’d not guide him, he’d not consolidate him. This one was entirely on Kija now. The boy ignored his phone. Then, picked it up again. He typed in a number of replies — from “ _This was a mistake, I’m just going to delete your number_ ” to “ _Fine, let’s do it_ ” — and then deleted all of them. Though he’d never been fond of ignoring his problems, it might turn out that this issue was one he could turn into his first exception and ignore until it went away.

Kija had thought the ordeal behind him, he’d thought it over. If he caught himself fantasising about what could have happened if he’d hit ‘send’ to any of the suggestions that they meet up, he was quick to scold himself. If he ever found himself regretting not pursuing anything with Jae-ha, he felt himself wanting to erase the memory, to cast it aside and forget about it forever. And yet, try as he might, Kija’s mind kept coming back to the green-haired biker with the offer that somehow, he could not stop turning in his head, again, and again.

He deleted Jae-ha’s number. But he’d already memorised it. He blocked it. But then he’d unblocked it hours later. Kija’s mind felt like a metronome, constantly hovering from left to right, one extreme to the other.

So when, a little over a month after that first encounter, Yona and Hak convinced him that he should join them at yet another party, Kija agreed, though not because he secretly hoped to have a run-in with the same Jae-ha whose name everyone had been calling in triumph. He told himself that the biker could not possibly be the reason why he’d agreed, of course. And when he saw the older boy already by the bar, dressed in that same leather jacket and jeans that looked deliberately too tight, he told himself he’d not go over.

But then, Jae-ha’s eyes found him from across the room and Kija was already approaching him, body moving of its own accord. Kija’s mind screamed at him in warning, that this was just what Jae-ha did — he picked up boys and girls who wanted a one-night stand, nothing serious and always easy. Kija had never stood for that. So why? Why now, why Jae-ha?

“Have you made up your mind yet?” the biker asked as he leaned back against the bartop, the look in his eyes something between a challenge and a mockery.

Of course, he didn’t believe that Kija would have found the courage to say _yes_ , and so the boy set out to prove him wrong, to prove both of them wrong, in fact. No part of him had made this decision and yet, here he was, giving voice to it regardless.

“We can go now,” he said. “If you still want to, that is.”

Jae-ha looked at him in surprise, his eyes widening. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a shot.”

There was hesitation in Jae-ha’s eyes, beneath the stormy layers of ocean blue and dark violet, Kija could tell. Could see as those same eyes roamed his, perhaps searching for traces of doubt, or perhaps simply waiting for him to take his words back. But Kija wouldn’t, and Jae-ha must have recognised that in the firm set of Kija’s jaw because finally, after a long, agonising moment, the biker smiled.

“Okay then,” he said and gestured towards the door, “we can go.”

Kija felt the press of Jae-ha’s hand against his back as the two left the party and the buzz of drunken chatter behind. The boy recognised the black motorbike parked outside and set towards it, Jae-ha only a beat behind. As if he was waiting for Kija to turn back any moment now, still doubting that Kija was willing.

“Where’s your jacket?” was all Jae-ha said as they approached the bike.

The boy frowned. “It’s summer. I didn’t bring one.”

Jae-ha reached out to pull his extra helmet over Kija’s head, fingers hovering just beneath the boy’s chin as he secured the straps. In silence, he then shrugged out of his leather jacket and held it out for him.

Kija shook his head. “It’s alright.”

“Just take it,” Jae-ha said. “It might be summer but it gets cold out on the open road.”

Though Kija hesitated for another moment, he reached out to take the leather and pulled it over his shirt anyway. It was too big on him, the sleeves much too long, but it felt warm, felt like arms around him and so Kija welcomed it.

“Are you coming?” the biker asked, having already mounted the motorcycle. Though his face was now obscured by his helmet, Kija could feel the hint of a challenge in his voice.

The boy nodded, throwing a leg over the pillion. It wasn’t until Jae-ha put the bike into first and began to pull forward that Kija realised he didn’t know where to grab for support. He grasped Jae-ha’s broad shoulders awkwardly, then his waist as the bike got on the road. Fortunately, Jae-ha didn’t bring the bike to any of the speeds he’d raced and ridden the road’s curves with, not while they were still on the local. Kuuto’s streets were dark but never empty, and so Jae-ha pulled up between the few cars making their way across town despite the hour. 

At the first stop, the older boy flipped his visor up and twisted in the saddle.

“Lean against me,” he told Kija, “and place your hands on the tank. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap the top of my helmet.”

The light turned green and Jae-ha cracked the throttle with a great deal of flourish. The bike roared in response and pulled forward in a beat. Kija seized Jae-ha’s waist as they surged forward. He reached under the older boy’s arms, braced his hands on the bike’s tank as instructed. The position left his chest pressed flush against Jae-ha’s back. He wondered, idly, if Jae-ha could feel his hurried heartbeat through the fleece, leather, and wool of his clothing. If the boy could feel the shivers rock his body as they pierced the night air, taking the exit towards the highway head-on now.

“Hang on tight,” Jae-ha told him, his voice loud enough to parse the force of the wind as they began to pick up speed.

Each time Jae-ha up-shifted, Kija felt his heart slam against his ribcage. At second gear, they merged onto the highway. At third, they blew past the other cars and wove between lanes. At fourth, they were ripe for a speeding ticket and Kija was certain the older boy must have felt the way his heart was beating now, right against the column of Jae-ha’s spine. They were shooting past traffic with little reaction time to spare, coming up on cars and blowing away trucks. 

Kija felt vibrations against his chest as Jae-ha’s body, not his, shuddered with something that felt like laughter, though he couldn’t have been sure. If it truly was, then Jae-ha was crazy. Which made Kija crazy in return, for having agreed to this, for having pursued it.

They were up the northeast corners of Kuuto when Jae-ha finally eased off the throttle and began to cycle down through the gears. They crossed three lanes to take an off-ramp towards an outer road, the bright-yellow of its streetlamps guiding their path past the top of the ramp and off the highway. After a few minutes, Jae-ha took them down a dimly lit suburban street that stood completely empty, life quiet and peaceful save for the booming of the bike’s engine. Finally, he pulled into the driveway of a small house. The bike’s headlight illuminated one of two garage doors and halted just in front of the one on the left. 

After Jae-ha put the bike into neutral, he reached back to tap Kija’s thigh. The boy took the cue and dismounted, though before he could step away, Jae-ha’s hand stilled him as it gripped the leather jacket’s edge. With his other hand, Jae-ha reached for the zipper.

The adrenaline from the ride had restored enough of Kija’s confidence for him to ask: “Are you undressing me on the street?”

“The keys to the garage door are in the inside pocket,” Jae-ha said, his teasing tone with a lilt of curiosity to it. “Do you want me to start undressing you on the street?”

“That depends.”

Kija felt Jae-ha’s fingers brush against his chest before they dipped for the jacket’s inner pocket. “On what?”

“Whether or not you’re planning on finishing the job somewhere with a bed,” Kija replied.

With Jae-ha’s visor reflecting the streetlights and tinted dark, Kija couldn’t tell what his expression was, but he caught the sound of a soft chuckle, imagined that smirk which bordered between a tease and a challenge. Asked himself if he shouldn’t just leave after all, while he still had the chance.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Jae-ha said and though it sounded like a joke, Kija wasn’t sure anything could ever be _just_ a joke with him. 

Then, Jae-ha was reaching up and Kija let him undo his straps for him, pull the helmet off. Kija could have almost found the gesture a gentle one, if it had come from anyone else. But Jae-ha had been switching gears between forceful and gentle, teasing and reassuring, ever since they’d met and his game was giving Kija whiplash. The older boy had already made it clear that he liked it when he was in control, when he was issuing a challenge that he was certain he could win. Kija supposed, the only question that remained was how Jae-ha’d like to claim his victory. And the answer would come soon enough. Perhaps sooner than the boy felt ready for.

Once Jae-ha moved to park his bike inside the garage, Kija followed behind. His gaze tracked the way Jae-ha’s shirt rode up his stomach as he reached to pull the door down. Of course, Kija knew he’d be seeing that shirt off rather soon. It didn’t halt the heavy feeling pooling in his chest and stomach. Kija was straight, he was. But at this point, tonight was inevitable. His body had coiled up all this expectation, this need, and the only way to erase it was to set it free. Jae-ha had made it so he couldn’t stop thinking about him, and he’d done that with only a few words, spoken weeks ago. Better do this and get through it, better forget it come morning so the boy could go back to life without thoughts of Jae-ha.

Kija felt a hand at the small of his back as the older boy guided him through the door of his rent-out. It should have been reassuring in a way, he supposed. Yet, all the touch succeeded in doing was spark a fire up and down his body. Were those flames of fear, or were they just part of the rush? Both, perhaps?

“Do you have alcohol?” Kija asked as they came inside a small living room. It was that time of summer when the nights weren’t nearly as dark as any other part of the year, and so Jae-ha didn’t bother turning on the lights.

“Yes, but you’re not having any. I’m not doing this if you want to be drunk for it.”

There was a beat of silence before Kija admitted: “I’m nervous.”

“Then I’ll just have to make you feel relaxed, babe,” Jae-ha whispered from behind and wrapped his arms around him, brushed his lips against the side of his neck.

Kija leaned back into the touch, already feeling himself surrender to it, even if the knot of nerves in his stomach was still coiling like a snake. If only he could lose himself in that touch. The sooner he did, the faster they’d both get what they came for.

Next, he felt Jae-ha move his hands in circles across his chest, felt those long, steady fingers reach around for the hem of the jacket and pull it down Kija’s arms. Once off, Jae-ha tossed it with what Kija suspected was only feigned neglect, considering it landed neatly on the couch closest to them. Kija turned around, as though the very thought of staying with his back to Jae-ha left him feeling helpless, exposed to another boy’s touch and vulnerable to what that touch could do to him. Just how far it could corrupt him.

Through the dim light in the house, he saw Jae-ha shift his gaze to his mouth, where his eyes settled to devour the skin before their lips had even met. It was a signal to gear up, Kija supposed, to get his mind under control because it was about to be undone.

_It’s just a kiss_ , Kija thought moments before the storm, _it’s all the same whether it’s from a guy or a girl_.

But in the moment that Jae-ha leaned forward, in that fragment of a second before their lips had even met, Kija felt this wasn’t going to be quite like any of the kisses he’d shared before. Already, his breath caught in his throat and heat darted across his body. And as Jae-ha claimed his lips — as he submitted them to his rule — the force of the kiss nearly sent Kija stumbling backwards, only Jae-ha’s hands on his hips there to steady him.

No girl had kissed Kija with this much fire and equally, Kija had kissed no one with such freedom, such fervour. But this, it wasn’t as much a kiss as it was a war, even though Kija had already capitulated. As if Jae-ha wanted to devour him, to make him surrender to his lips, bow down and yield to them completely, utterly. It made him feel so hot that he feared he might ignite. The way Jae-ha’s mouth enveloped Kija’s, the press of their lips together, it had started a wildfire across Kija’s whole body, beyond the skin. Kija was burning under the force of those lips now, burning alive.

He felt the press of Jae-ha’s tongue against his lower lip and opened his mouth like he was greedy for it. Felt Jae-ha’s grip on his hips tighten, suddenly bruising, felt his own hands surge up to grip the fabric of Jae-ha’s shirt, fingers digging into his chest and scrambling for purchase. And then Jae-ha’s tongue, hot and wet, was twisting around and against his own, drawing wet sounds from Kija’s very mouth and pulling gasps, tugging at his breath.

The idea that Kija wouldn’t want this wasn’t even amongst his thoughts. It had been swept under the perfect storm that was the hunger in Jae-ha’s eyes, the battle that he waged on his lips. Like a light, the kiss was luring Kija in. Absently, he wondered why he’d even fought against this before. It felt so right. His brain was smouldering in flames. His mind begged for more.

More, more, more.

Kija felt Jae-ha’s tongue probing, felt himself getting weak in the knees. He’d never had his obedience demanded from him like this before. It was surrender, complete and total surrender, absolute. It was waving a white flag and still having his defenses leveled to ashes. Kija felt himself lost. Felt himself found. He’d never imagined submitting to the force of another man’s lips could leave him so breathless, so thoroughly desperate for more. He needed air, but he needed the sensation of their lips together just as badly. As if he’d die without either, simply perish. 

Jae-ha’s hands moved to cup his ass, fingers grasping firmly. Kija moaned against the boy’s lips. He felt Jae-ha smile into the kiss, felt it as the corners of his mouth pulled upwards in victory. Then, the older boy was pulling back, an obscene smack as his tongue left the wet heat of Kija’s mouth. Cold air rushed in, suddenly like ice against their swollen lips.

“Follow me,” Jae-ha said and the thought that Kija would not comply was unimaginable.

The boy still felt light-headed as Jae-ha navigated the small corridor leading up to his bedroom. He didn’t look back, didn’t ask if Kija was going to follow him. There was no need. They both knew that Kija would. The sweet taste of Jae-ha’s lips had spelled promise of what was yet to come, it had enchanted Kija just so that he’d been left with no other choice but to follow.

Once inside Jae-ha’s bedroom, Kija took one look at the bed and already felt overwhelmed, eager but no less nervous.

“Just do as I say and you’ll enjoy it,” Jae-ha said, tugging at Kija’s shirt to pull it up and over his head. “Take off the rest.”

Kija complied in a hurry, as Jae-ha turned with his back to him and went over to adjust the blinds. The boy felt vulnerable still, even more so now that he was only in his boxers and Jae-ha had yet to shed a single item of clothing besides his shoes.

“You plan on doing this with your clothes on?” Kija quipped.

Jae-ha chuckled, then turned around. “Are we in a rush?”

And almost as if to prove his point, Jae-ha swept his gaze over Kija’s body — from head to toe — so very slowly, languidly, like he was dragging it out. The boy felt shivers all over his skin. It wasn’t that Kija was self-conscious of himself or his body — he wasn’t. He’d been the captain of the soccer team all throughout high school; in his free time now, he was playing for the college team. There wasn’t a part of him that hadn’t been shaped by hours of practice, he knew. But the way Jae-ha looked at him — like if he could devour him, he would — made Kija wish to flee and pull him closer all at the same time.

“On your back,” Jae-ha said with a nod towards the bed, and so Kija obliged, crawling on top of the sheets.

Jae-ha remained standing at the foot of the bed, his stillness demanding Kija’s attention. For a long moment, the boy wondered what was wrong and if he was missing some essential piece of knowledge that he was too straight to have learned about.

Then, as soon as he had Kija’s undivided attention, Jae-ha began to strip. He pulled the shirt above his head, just as slowly as he’d let his gaze roam Kija’s body before, and the boy glanced down to see the hard muscle of his stomach. The night cast shadows across his form, made his body look like a perfect mold, skin pressed tight over his abs.

At the sight, Kija felt heat pool down the band of his boxers. Felt his throat clench, tighten. He swallowed.

Jae-ha pulled the last bit of the shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. Their eyes locked once more and Kija was certain that this was just another challenge to test him, to see if he could hold Jae-ha’s gaze. There was a click of metal as the older boy unlocked his belt and unzipped his pants. He smirked when Kija blinked but did not look down. The boy didn’t know what either of them was trying to prove but he felt this was the only battle that he could win tonight. If it meant holding that gaze of locked-away storm, he could do it.

But then, Jae-ha pushed his jeans down and Kija suddenly realised what the challenge was. Because of course, Jae-ha had gone commando. Kija should have expected it, he supposed, but he hadn’t and so his eyes immediately flickered to Jae-ha’s cock. He should have felt defeat, but instead, Kija only felt the surge of heat. Jae-ha was already chubbing up, thick and long, with a slight curve upward. It was just another guy’s cock, he supposed. And it shouldn’t have aroused Kija as much as it did.

Without a word, Jae-ha joined him on the bed. Now leaning over him, he took Kija’s lips once more before trailing his next kisses over Kija’s jaw, down his neck, his chest, the rings of muscle on his stomach. With one hand, he reached blindly for one of the drawers of the nightstand.

“I’m clean,” Kija said quickly.

Jae-ha smiled against his skin, withdrew his hand. “I never liked the taste of condoms anyway.”

He reached up with eager fingers to draw Kija’s boxers down. Down until he let them fall to the floor, until they’d joined the pile with Jae-ha’s shirt and jeans. The cold air of the room now surged pleasantly against the exposed skin of Kija’s hips and groin.

The older boy hummed as he saw Kija’s cock was already a few inches on hard. “You’re straight, huh?”

“I am,” Kija said, though his voice came out sounding uncertain even to himself.

And in the next moment, he was hissing through his teeth as he felt Jae-ha wrap his fingers around the shaft of his cock. Strong and calloused, from his grip on the bike or his time at the gym perhaps, those fingers held him like none of Kija’s exes had ever dared pull and tug. As Jae-ha’s eyes remained locked on Kija’s, the older boy slapped his cheek with Kija’s cock — once, then twice, — the sounds at each slap against his face obscenely alluring. Jae-ha smirked. He must have felt Kija’s cock pulse.

“You’re stubborn,” he said, “but you’re not straight.”

And Jae-ha set out to prove just that. He teased Kija with dainty little kisses on the head, blowing over the slit. His other hand caressed the top of Kija’s thigh, calming him when all Kija wanted to do was keep himself afloat.

“I’ve had blowjobs before,” the boy said, as if to remind himself that this wasn’t anything he’d not done before.

But Jae-ha pulled back enough to smirk, the smile so very shameless. “You’ve had blowjobs by _girls_ before. There’s a difference.”

Jae-ha licked his lips and wrapped them over the head, keeping his gaze locked onto Kija’s, as if in challenge. Slowly, he slid down, tempting Kija with the visual of his red lips stretched and glistening down his cock. Jae-ha didn’t stop until it hit the back of his throat, didn’t gag like any of Kija’s girlfriends.

Already, the inside of Kija’s mind was chaos. With just that one movement, Jae-ha had managed to strip Kija of his disillusion that this would be like any of the blowjobs he’d had before. In his experience, some girls didn’t like giving head. Those that did would mouth him until just when he was good and hard enough, sometimes stroke him off a little. Some of them would even try and deepthroat him, though Kija hadn’t dated anyone that would try to hold him, in full, for long. All of his past experience, however, couldn’t have prepared him for this, for that exact moment when Jae-ha swallowed the whole of his cock without skipping a single beat.

As Jae-ha continued to worship his cock, he never broke eye contact. Not once. Every time Kija would look away or close his eyes, Jae-ha would pull out and demand his attention. When he’d look down, Jae-ha would cast a teasing, lopsided smile and keep looking into his eyes while he slithered his tongue all the way up from Kija’s balls to his head. He’d sense when to stop his strokes or pull his mouth off, keeping Kija on the razor’s edge every time the boy’s cock signalled its delirium with tiny shakes and pulses.

Kija didn’t know what to do with his hands but he needed them somewhere. He must have sensed it, sensed the shift in Kija, because he pulled back once more, just as he’d done every time Kija had dared look away.

“You can pull my hair, I can see you want to.” With one hand, Jae-ha reached for Kija’s fingers and led them to tangle in his ponytail. “Or do the girls you date not like that?”

Kija swallowed. “I’ve never asked.”

Jae-ha smirked. “Well, you can just cut loose with me, I’d prefer it if you didn’t ask anyway.”

And without another word, Jae-ha wrapped his lips around the head of Kija’s cock once again. The boy let out a moan and a shudder when Jae-ha swallowed him down, down, down. Until he was all the way in. He fisted his hand into Jae-ha’s hair and pushed him onto his shaft, held him there as Jae-ha gagged but remained with his lips pressed down to the very base of Kija’s cock. As he felt the heat of Jae-ha’s mouth on him, felt his tongue slide down his length, Kija let his grip tighten, turn iron-clad. He was pushing him down with the force of his hand now, pushing him to stay there and hold him, the veins on Jae-ha's neck contracting.

Kija groaned and collapsed into the pillow, the visual of Jae-ha deepthroating him too strong, too intense. The ceiling was all blurry, his vision getting foggy.

They’d reached a dangerous point now. Jae-ha breathed raggedly, holding Kija’s twitching thighs down with his strong hands to keep them from tearing his mouth apart. Kija felt Jae-ha shaking beneath his grasp and with great effort, let up his grip, letting Jae-ha pull back up. He looked down at him just in time to see how the older boy lifted himself away from Kija’s cock, with an obscenely wet smack, the corners of his mouth glistening with saliva and precum. The sight drove Kija mad with something he could not name but felt akin to lust, though none like he’d known before.

“You’re a fast learner,” Jae-ha said, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Then, the older boy raised himself to Kija’s lips again, where he pressed their mouths together for another kiss. Kija felt the taste of his own precum across Jae-ha’s tongue, though he didn’t find himself repulsed. Instead, his cock twitched at the thought of where Jae-ha’s mouth had just been, and the heat of those lips wrapped around his length.

Jae-ha placed a hand on Kija’s hip. And then let it fly, the sound of the slap across his skin echoing across the walls of the room. “Turn over.”

So Kija did, without a thought to question the command. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind, not a thought that he should disobey. Jae-ha placed a hand on his back, beneath the column of his spine, over his tailbone. Then, Kija felt the older boy’s mouth on the curve of his ass.

“Relax,” Jae-ha murmured against his skin, just shivers. He pressed down, stilling Kija’s hips. “I can go as slow as you want it.”

“I’m not a girl,” Kija snapped back, defensive.

Jae-ha left a sucking kiss across his right cheek. “Then, would you prefer I fucked you so hard that you’ll feel it tomorrow when you’re sitting in class?”

Kija’s body stilled, his mind about to short-circuit. He thought about it — sitting in class, trying to listen attentively while he shifted from hip to hip, each switch of weight making him remember Jae-ha, balls deep in him. He didn’t even know what that would feel like yet, but he already knew it would be his doom.

“You think you’re that good?” Kija asked, trying to muster some semblance of dignity.

Kija felt Jae-ha lift his mouth. There was a whip of cold air and then a lash as Jae-ha’s hand came down on the place where his mouth had left Kija’s skin wet. A shocked cry choked itself free from the base of Kija’s throat. He lifted his head up and twisted his shoulders to stare at Jae-ha, who simply smiled back and, holding Kija’s gaze with his own, dipped his head to lick one slow, painful stripe across the fire that his hand had left behind.

“I’m better than you think I am,” he murmured, letting his lips brush the newly sensitive skin. “And I don’t like it when you don’t answer my questions.”

Kija growled, but made no move to resist. He could if he wanted to, he thought. He could twist his hips around, but a frisson of pleasure in the pain stilled him. Reluctance quickly turned to curiosity, to fascination. 

There was something to Jae-ha’s lips catching on his skin as he spoke: “You like that?”

Kija watched, and felt every inch of skin where Jae-ha placed more open-mouthed kisses. The touches turned edged when Jae-ha began to suck. Though Kija felt infinitely vulnerable, having Jae-ha mark him like that, he did not oppose it. Instead, he found himself groaning against the pull of his skin against Jae-ha’s lips, his teeth, beneath his tongue.

“It’s new,” Kija said finally.

When Jae-ha lifted his mouth, he stroked the marks with his tongue, then asked: “You want more of it?”

“Should I?”

Jae-ha struck Kija’s opposite buttock with equal force.

Though the slap hurt less against dry skin, the surprise as sharp pain burst across his skin shocked another cry from Kija. This time, instead of soothing the skin with more kisses, Jae-ha slapped it again. The pain was worse, but this time Kija saw the bounce of his ass in response to the strike and was further aroused.

“Still think you’re straight?” Jae-ha asked as he lowered his head to kiss and tease, sending shivers of pleasure all the way across Kija’s sensitive skin.

The boy moaned, half in pain, half in pleasure. He couldn’t answer. All that he could do was close his eyes and bury his face into the pillows. Eyes now shut, vision cut off, the sensation as Jae-ha continued to worship his ass — to kiss, and suck, and lick, and nip — was made all the more intense. Sparks, across his skin. A trail of kerosene and Jae-ha was the match.

“I’ve seen you during practice, you know,” Jae-ha said but Kija was too wrapped up in the overwhelming feeling to comprehend fully. “You usually have your soccer games the same time we have our basketball practice.”

“You’ve seen me before that party?” Kija stammered.

Jae-ha chuckled. “I have. And for months now, I’ve been thinking what you’d taste like on my lips.”

Kija moaned as Jae-ha kissed his skin again. His cock responded by leaking more precum. It ached for more now, but he knew that would come when Jae-ha grew hungry for it. Kija’s eyes were closed, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his brow furrowed. His right hand reached for his own cock but Jae-ha slapped it away.

“No cheating,” the older boy said, his breath just fog against the skin. “Tonight, you’re going to come for me just from the feeling of my cock inside you.”

And as Kija felt Jae-ha’s tongue dance around the ring of muscle around his hole and then slip inside, he moaned freely into the sheets. Jae-ha continued to worship his ass, but it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Kija’s cock was desperate for touch, having been neglected for much too long. Kija began to rock, started to push up against Jae-ha’s mouth and then down to feed his cock friction against the sheets, the movement demanding that Jae-ha lean forward to match and follow it.

He heard Jae-ha chuckle, breath sharp and warm on his skin. “I’m going to make you say it, you know. Tonight, you’re going to admit you’re not straight.”

Kija’s ass was aching and stinging by the time Jae-ha finally pulled up and moved to kiss the back of his neck. As Kija felt the wet smack of those swollen lips once they pressed and nuzzled against his pulse, he moaned again. He felt on fire. No, he’d gone past flames already, he’d been burning for so long now that he felt like every kiss was peeling off the charred flesh.

“I’m going to get you ready,” Jae-ha whispered in his ear.

The older boy placed one hand on Kija’s back and, with the other, reached for that same drawer, took out a bottle of lube. There was a moment or two when Kija just lay there, trying to control his breathing, trying to prepare himself for whatever would come next, even if he knew it was futile. He heard Jae-ha rub his fingers together, trying to warm them up enough that Kija wouldn’t flinch away from the cold, he supposed.

“You can always tell me to stop or slow down. If it gets too much.”

Kija wanted to say that he could handle anything, but he was already struggling to catch his breath. Every step of the way so far, Jae-ha had proven to him that whatever he’d thought he’d known hadn’t been enough, hadn’t prepared him for the overwhelming feeling that engulfed him now, in Jae-ha’s bed.

And as he felt Jae-ha’s finger, now slick and wet, rubbing circles around his entrance and slowly pushing in, he felt, he feared that this time, it would prove too much. Kija jumped away, but Jae-ha’s steady hand on his hip kept him at bay.

“Just relax,” he said. “I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

Kija frowned. The intrusion felt strange, unwelcome at first. He felt himself lose a bit of his fire. “You say that after what you did to my ass?”

“That was pleasure, if your moans were anything to go by.”

As if to prove a point in just what the difference between pain and pleasure was, Jae-ha arched his finger, now deep to the knuckle. Kija whimpered, clenched around it.

“That’s it. Let me hear you, baby.”

Kija moaned again, as Jae-ha pressed another finger into him. The older boy began a scissoring motion, spreading and teasing the tight muscle. Kija arched his back and groaned as he widened his stance, driven by desire, by some instinct that guided him to what felt good. He pushed back against Jae-ha’s fingers, as they curled upwards in small circles. 

“Keep going,” Jae-ha cooed. “Fuck yourself onto my hand, show me how much you want it.”

Kija bit his lower lip, as three of Jae-ha’s fingers now rocked him from the inside. His grip tightened around the sheets. He was clinging on for dear life, he knew. With his lips, Jae-ha followed a trail of sweat cascading down the small of Kija’s back. His knees and thighs trembled when Jae-ha swept one hand up the inside of them, moving to press his next kisses into the soft skin there.

“You like that? You like how it feels?” Jae-ha purred as he curved his fingers just so that their tips could drag over a spot that pulsed like a second heartbeat.

Kija twitched, felt his elbows unable to support him as Jae-ha he felt out for that same spot and rubbed at it, pressing down a little harder. He felt like he could cum just from that, just from Jae-ha’s fingers. His cock was throbbing now, even though he’d not touched it once. It felt harder than he’d thought it had ever been before.

“Jae-ha,” Kija began to say.

But the older boy was already withdrawing his fingers. “Hush, I know.”

Kija lay there, having been brought so close to the edge already that it physically hurt to be made to wait as he waited for Jae-ha to unwrap a condom and lather lube up and down his length. This was it, wasn’t? The reason he was here, why he’d sought out Jae-ha at the party, what he’d been fantasising about all along. He was feeling so overwhelmed already, so close to breaking that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reassemble the pieces back together after Jae-ha was done.

And just as he’d thought that, he felt something cold and wet rest at the curve of his ass, tease his entrance. All earlier inhibitions returned, suddenly blinding, when Jae-ha’s cock came to spread his ass apart, pressed between his skin. Kija braced for it as the older boy slid his length up and down.

“Having second thoughts?” Jae-ha asked.

“Are you?” Kija quipped at him, praying that the comment would be enough to spur him on, because the boy could not find it within himself to say it.

Kija felt Jae-ha’s head press into his entrance, which began to cave in trying to take him all. Then, Jae-ha’s cock was pushing against Kija, and for a small while, he didn’t think it would go in. But once more, he was proven wrong. Then, he was crying out.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” Jae-ha soothed him, his words gentler than before and his fingers rubbing circles against Kija’s back. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

Could he be ready? Did there exist a moment in time when he’d be ready for this? It seemed Jae-ha expected it, even if Kija himself was uncertain. For a while, the older boy didn’t pull out, but didn’t push in more either. Kija’s face grew hot and red, his heart already drumming like firecrackers all set off at once. He’d underestimated how thick Jae-ha’s cock was, how big it would feel inside him. Water welled in his eyes from the sting of it, but he didn’t want this to end, didn’t want to let it.

“Keep going,” Kija stuttered.

He felt the back of Jae-ha’s hand caress the side of his face softly before it came to rest and grip the space between Kija’s neck and shoulder. Jae-ha started to press in further. He kept pushing and pushing until Kija could feel his hips against his skin, until Kija felt so obscenely full and close to breaking. 

“Fuck,” Jae-ha whispered in his ear, “you’re so tight, babe.”

Jae-ha pulled out slowly, back in, out, in. On the push, Kija would wince but the slight pull-out would send waves through him. Every time he thought there couldn’t be more, there was. The pain was subsiding. Already, it didn’t hurt anymore, and heat returned to Kija’s body, darted across the skin that had suddenly gone cold and damp. Jae-ha could tell, and began building up a pace, gentle. Gentle, but desperate. Kija could feel the anguished attempt at composure in the stutter of Jae-ha’s hips.

“So, have you decided if you want me to go slow?”

Kija could barely speak. Did Jae-ha really expect an answer right now?

“I told you before,” he said with effort, “I’m not a girl. I can take it.”

With a grunt, Jae-ha made his first thrust and Kija was left gasped once again. Jae-ha’s leisured rhythm had stuttered, in its place a faster, more urgent drive. A hunger. He continued to drive into Kija again, and again, each time a little faster than the one before. Kija bit his lip. What little pain remained was quickly being drowned out by the throbbing pressure inside of him. He’d said he could take it but—

“I wonder if you can,” Jae-ha said.

And he cut loose. He started pounding into Kija, hard. As if intent on wringing every bit, every ounce of pleasure from his body, he began to thrust and buck. Kija’s mind was gone. Just gone. He was moaning wildly, whimpering not in pain, but of the overwhelming sensation that was him feeling stretched, feeling full, so full. And Jae-ha did not let up. Did not stop, did not slow down. He never changed positions, just kept fucking Kija and the endurance he had was legendary. 

“Tell me you’re straight now,” he growled.

Heat grew heavy in the air between them. Kija sensed the moment Jae-ha became lost in the wild, frantic need for Kija’s absolute surrender.

“I’m straight,” the boy huffed as Jae-ha continued to pound into him.

“You still think that?” Jae-ha asked. “You still think you’re straight?”

The absence of an answer only made Jae-ha thrust into him harder, faster. He grasped and lifted Kija’s hips, grip near-bruising.

“It’s a yes or no question, baby.”

With the change of angle, Jae-ha’s cock was now hitting that same spot which had made Kija see stars earlier. The boy gasped, head tipping forward into the pillows as his breath ceased in his lungs, as if it, too, was being thrust right out of him.

“Let’s make it easier then. Do you like this?” Jae-ha asked and Kija felt his answer already when Jae-ha angled his cock so he was hitting that spot again, and again.

“Yes,” Kija whimpered.

Jae-ha’s thrusts were both a punishment and a reward, every slide and stroke deliberate, the drag of skin following the path of the fire. The thick head of Jae-ha’s cock punctuated deep into Kija with every brutal piston of hips. He could hear, could feel Jae-ha’s balls slapping against his skin, the sounds wet, the sounds a sin.

“Do you like how I feel inside you?” Jae-ha asked then.

“Yes.”

“Do you still think you’re straight?” Jae-ha asked again.

At that point, Kija just gave up. Before then, he’d been trying to hold on, as if he’d been gripping the edge of a perilous ledge so as to not fall off. But now, Kija gave in and just stopped trying. Stopped trying to hold his body up with his hands, trying to keep track of time, to deny himself the truth. He was simply lost in a mist, completely helpless against the pleasure.

Kija let out a cry of utter defeat: “No.”

The boy felt Jae-ha’s hand reach up from behind and grip his chin, pulling his head back, fingers rubbing over his mouth and parting his lips.

Next, that low voice was back at his ear, so deep, so commanding. “Then come for me, Kija.”

And he did, moaning Jae-ha’s name and biting down on the fingers in his mouth, eyes screwed shut. As his whole body bucked and shook wildly, Jae-ha’s grip on his chin gave him whiplash. Streams of hot semen spurted all across the sheets below him. His muscles struggled to contract around Jae-ha’s girth as the boy continued to pound him through his orgasm, the feeling made that much more intense. He was boneless, only Jae-ha’s hands on his hips to keep him upright and carry him through the oblivion.

The older boy’s thrusts became erratic once Kija’s muscles began to clamp down around his cock. With a groan, he buried himself to the hilt as he came. The swelling of his cock took Kija to one last high, one last ride before euphoria plunged him into bliss, into nothing at all.

Kija wasn’t sure if Jae-ha had said anything. He wasn’t sure if he himself hadn’t screamed, or yelled, or whispered silly words in his trance-like state. All he remembered, through his heated daze, was that he’d never come so hard in his life. His head was still spinning out as he felt Jae-ha pull out and flip him over. The boy collapsed back, his body in ruin, Jae-ha next to him. He was vaguely aware of the mattress beneath him, but felt like he was floating, was only half-awake as Jae-ha stood up to fetch something to clean them with. His eyelids were heavy, every bit of him a wreck, and sleep was calling him to its very depths.

At some point, Kija woke up to the warmth of Jae-ha’s arm around him, dawn streaming through the windows.

“Don’t leave just yet,” Jae-ha groaned in his ear as Kija tried to shift across the bed.

And Kija didn’t. Not because he couldn’t, but because those arms felt so very warm around him. He snuggled closer and let sleep call for him once more, this time peaceful and divine as it claimed him in Jae-ha’s tight embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing full-blown smut feels pretty awkward, so I decided to do just that — write full-blown smut (it's big brain time, people). In retrospect, this turned out to be a nice little challenge, I suppose. Sleep-deprivation and unrealistic time goals didn't help writing this one, but I'm still glad it got to see the light of day (finally)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Thank you for reading! :)


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